Legend of the Permaboner
by Miss Construed
Summary: We all know Eric can do no wrong.  Neither can his permaboner.  Dedicated to peppermintyrose and her love of all things permanent.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** This little ditty is a direct result of an emotional twitter conversation, and is dedicated to peppermintyrose. You know you love it.

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**All About the Devil Peen: The Legend of the Permaboner**

I have something to confess, but you have to promise to keep it a secret. Okay?

Good.

Well, I have this problem. It's small; minor really. No. Wait. It's huge. Well, the problem is small, but the problem area is huge, if you know what I mean.

It's just that lately, I haven't been able to – and this is the part you have to keep to yourself – um… keep it up.

Don't get me wrong; I'm a vampire. I don't have erectile dysfunction problems. It's just that lately I haven't been able to keep it up more than four, maybe five hours at a time. After that, I need a break to recuperate.

I know that sounds ridiculous. And it was. I'm Eric Northman. I don't need a rest period for the gracious plenty. I've had more women than you could shake a stick at, and that was just within the last week. If you were so inclined to shake a stick at every woman I'd been with over my 1,000 year lifetime, you'd deplete the rain forest.

It wouldn't be the first forest that was depleted on my behalf. I could claim credit for the depletion of the forests in what is now England. See, I was visiting my good friend who was a Sheriff of what is now Area Twelve in England, but had then been known as Nottingham. It had been a great time – no rules or regulations, none of this blood in a bottle crap that was so popular nowadays. Well, as we all know, all good things come to an end. That particular good thing came to an end when some asshole got his knickers in a twist because I got into his lady's pants. Or dress. Whatever. Either way, the lady in question – Marion if I remember correctly – wasn't worth the fuss. But this Robin Hood guy thought she was, and he went on a rampage when he found out I was a vampire. With his band of merry men (they were named that for a reason, I can personally vouch. Friar Tuck should've been called Friar Fuck as far as I was concerned), he cut down all the trees and made them all into wooden spikes. He somehow managed to get the locals in on it - some kind of crazy claim about redistributing the wealth if they banded together. Steal from the rich, give to the poor. Boo hoo. The things people will unify over are sickening. Obviously, all of that hard work and rabble rousing didn't help him get me. The Sheriff didn't fare as well.

But, enough of that. The bottom line is that this little problem with my big problem area has really screwed up my schedule. In the not so distant past (ahem, two weeks ago) I used to spend ten out of my twelve waking hours licking, biting and fucking the stream of willing women that came through my door. Women came from far and wide to… well, come at my hands and gracious plenty. On average, I'd fuck about 20 different women a day; 30 minutes of pleasure per woman. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. No really – thank you.

But lately, I haven't been able to fuck more than ten women a day. I'd be able to get in seven or eight before the pecker got a little peckish (God, I love puns). After that, I might be able to rally for two or three more fucks, but the fun is kind of sucked out of it when all you can think about is keeping it up. Hell, Bill Compton could probably outfuck me at the moment.

Pam told me I needed to fuck it out. I've tried just about everything I can think of – one girl, one guy, two girls, two guys, three girls…well, you get the drift. Nothing seemed to excite me anymore. I'd fucked blondes; I'd fucked brunettes; albinos; hell, even a ginger or two. It didn't help. Then, I moved onto supes – werewolfs, werefoxes, werebunnies, even a troll. Nothing. Nada.

My once-legendary wood had taken a licking, and not in a good way. No one knows, of course. They can't know. I'm the Sheriff of Area Five. It wouldn't do to know that the Sheriff had lost his ability for indiscriminate fucking. That might be enough to cost me my position.

Just last year, the Sheriff of Area Two in New York was demoted because she didn't have a spontaneous orgasm when a virgin was brought in front of her. Ridiculous. I didn't have that problem. At least not yet. Why, just last week, when Bill brought in that tasty, virginal morsel with the crazy name I can't remember, it was like the inside of a twinkie exploded all over my leg. I had no problem keeping my erection that night, let me tell you. Kaboom. It's hard. Blam. It's hard. Splurt. Yep, still hard. But that was the last time I had the ten gun salute south of my belt buckle.

My appointment tonight was my last hope. And no, I wasn't seeing some supe doctor. I knew what they'd do. They'd give me Viagra and tell me to hope for the best. Pfft. As if I hadn't tried that already. It's not hard to kill an old man who has to take pills to get it up, after all. I took the whole bottle at once, and while the boner did last a bit longer, it still deflated like the Goodyear Blimp that had been hit by a stray spear.

Pam set up the meeting for me. What other reason did you have lackeys, if not to do things like this? Of course, Pam is more than just a lackey. She's my child, and I love her as such, even if she does come up with some pretty ridiculous ideas. Just last week, she'd suggested I get a throne for Fangtasia. Can you believe that? A throne. Who in the hell did she think I was? Queen fucking Victoria? Though, I knew from personal experience exactly how much fun QV had on the throne.

But this meeting she arranged more than made up for that suggestion. It wasn't that I didn't know the man in question, but there are certain individuals where you have your people call their people. The man in question was due at Fangtasia at any moment. I'd dressed with care, wearing a pair of skintight red leather pants with my favorite black Fangtasia t-shirt (business first!). I'd had more than my fair share of offers to peel the pants off me – okay, it's true, I was the Sheriff and everyone in the bar was my fair share. But the visitor had insisted I go snatch-free until after his treatment, so I turned them all down.

At exactly 12:15, there was a single knock on my door and in came the man of the hour. Now, you might expect someone of his history and reputation to look a little more foreboding, but he doesn't; it's part of his self-defense mechanism. Everyone expects the Devil – "Bub" to his friends – to be some big, imposing dude with cloven feet and a pitchfork. He's not, though he has something resembling a pitchfork in his pants. More of that later. He's nothing like the images that are shown in human books; in fact, he bears an uncanny resemblance to Danny Bonaduce, little Danny Bonaduce when he was on the Partridge Family. No one expects little Danny Bonaduce to steal your soul. Well, at least they didn't expect it before he started to take steroids – thanks to Bub's interference; but that's another story.

After exchanging pleasantries, we got right down to business.

"I hear you have a slight problem," Bub said.

"It's not so slight, if you know what I mean."

We both laughed, knowing exactly what I meant. He'd seen it. He'd touched it. It all goes with the territory of being a vampire.

Bub doesn't have this problem; has never had this problem. There have been numerous articles and books written about The Devil's Peen, not to mention the seven part miniseries the History Channel had filmed with the Devil's conquests testifying to his permaboner, and how well he used it.

"I have a solution, "he said. "But it's going to cost you."

I was pretty sure there wasn't a thing in the world I wouldn't give for the ability to keep my wood in oak and beech condition. "I've got no soul to barter Bub."

He laughed and shook his head. "Child's play Eric. Child's play. If I needed a soul to get anything done, I'd be as bankrupt as California right now. No. Something else entirely."

I raised my eyebrow and leaned back in my chair. "I need a sacrifice."

"As much fun as that would be, you know that's illegal these days."

"I don't need their death," he said nonchalantly. "I just need to fuck them. Here in your office. While you and your problem area watch."

That'd be easy enough. There were always fangbangers desperate to do anything to win my favor, even fuck the Devil.

"Virgin," he added, almost as an afterthought. "And two of them. One man; one woman."

Well, shit. Other than that chick with the crazy last name, I couldn't tell you the last time I ran into a bonafide virgin. It made this sacrificial thing that much harder to get done, all this mindless sex people were having this day and age.

"Don't worry," Bub said. "Pam has taken care of it."

Good Pam. I really would have to give her some kind of reward for her trouble. Maybe that little witch I'd met down in New Orleans. I'd have to think about it.

The door opened again, and this time Pam came in, followed by a man and a woman who were panting at her every command. They were either drunk, or glamored; possibly both. I couldn't care less. The woman looked like your typical virgin – decent looking, okay rack, but her eyes were too full of hope. I knew she was the type of girl that watched romantic comedies and was waiting for her Prince Charming. Well, she was 27 years old. Prince Charming wasn't coming. The man, on the other hand, looked like he'd faint if he ever got to see boobs up close. Good thing he wasn't going near any boobs.

"Excellent work Pam," Bub said, taking a step forward and running his fingers down the side of their faces.

We set up the sacrificial circle, spraying my blood and semen around my desk in order to direct the energy from the sacrifices towards me. Don't get squeamish on me here; it's not like any of you haven't seen blood or semen before. Bub was impressed that I was able to produce the second half of the equation in great quantity (hello, smelling two virgins is like a banana cream pie in my pants). In most cases, Bub wasn't called in until it was already too late. Good thing I was a planner with a semi.

Bub dropped trou in the middle of the circle, and the infamous Devil's peen sprang free. It was quite impressive, if I say so myself - split down the middle pitchfork style (the basis of the legend) and solid as a rock. Why, due to the size and scope of the pitchfork, you hardly noticed that he looked like he had Ronald Weasley in a headlock between his thighs.

"Shit," Pam said, running her tongue across the sharp tip of her fangs. "I never would've expected such a little man to have such a huge package!"

"He's the devil," I said, rolling my eyes. "Who would have a bigger boner than the Devil?"

"Is it always so…hard?" she asked.

"It is," Bub responded. "Haven't you heard of Devil's Tower? It didn't get that name on accident."

The sacrificial virgins began to get a little squirmy (it is just impossible to find good people these days), so Bub got down to the dirty work. He grabbed the girl first – no use scaring her, and let's face it, the guy is probably going to get excited just by watching. Judging by the small tent he'd pitched in his pants (and I mean small) even in his haze, our male sacrifice was turned on by the show.

He wasn't so excited when it was his turn. With ne'er a flaccid moment, Bub tossed the deflowered girl to the side and called for the man.

"What's your name?" he asked, thrusting his hips towards the dazed man in a continuous motion.

"Hoyt," he said, backing up until he ran into my desk.

"Well Hoyt," Bub said with a laugh. "I want you to squeal like a pig."

And he did.

The minute that squeal passed the man's lips, I felt a swirl of magic around me. With one quick glance at the crotch of my leather pants, I knew the permaboner was back, bigger and better than ever.

"Hot damn," I said, jumping out from behind my desk. "I think you fixed me!"

Bub nodded and pulled up his pants, reaching his hand out for the money that was due. Hey, the Devil did do things for free, even things he enjoyed doing anyway. It was the principle of the matter. In this time of assimilation, even the Devil tried to blend in, and everyone else took money for services rendered. It's not like he needed the money; he's the Devil.

One check and two virgin sacrifices later, and Bub was on his way out the door with Pam on his heels.

I sat back in my chair, spreading my legs to accommodate the bigger, better gracious plenty that had sprouted from my boxer shorts. Yes, I think I would be making up for lost time tonight. And tomorrow. I had always tried to give each of the fangbangers thirty minutes – a bit altruistic of me really. But right now, ten minutes would be sufficient as far as I was concerned.

I pressed the small button on the side of my desk – the one that alerted Pam that the GP was ready for take-off, and boy did it ever take off. Twenty-four fangbangers later, and it was time for me to get home. Even my permaboner can't fuck in the day time.

***

Two weeks and three hundred fangbangers later, and I was back in the saddle. Tonight was going to be a good night. A great fucking night. Bill Compton was due back in Fangtasia, and he'd been ordered to bring the little blonde he'd brought with him last time. Turned out she was a telepath. A virgin telepath. I'd be deflowering her wiliwili, no question about it. I could pencil her in in the ten o'clock spot; though she was a virgin. I should probably give her thirty minutes. Yes, that would be sufficient.

I dressed with care, making sure the GP was shown to the best advantage. I'd rummaged through my closet until I found exactly what I was looking for – a pair of red, spandex pants. The leather was usually good enough for displaying my gifts, but I wanted tonight to be extra special. It wasn't every night I got to get up close and personal with a virgin.

I got a few prerequisite fucks out of the way – I couldn't let the permaboner go to waste, not even for Crazy Name herself – and was headed out to my table when I saw her. There was something different about her, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I watched as she waltzed up to the bar, ordering whatever drink girls like her ordered as Bill talked to Pam. She really was delectable, and now that I knew I could go for twelve hours straight, I knew I was prepared to take her on.

I changed my direction, heading straight for the empty barstool to her left.

"Hello," I whispered into her ear.

Her head snapped up and she looked over at me, the look of shock quickly replaced by disdain. "Hello Mr. Northman."

"Eric," I said.

She rolled her eyes and turned her head towards Bill, who was following Pam across the bar as I had instructed her to do. What a fool he was bringing such a treat to my bar and then ignoring her, when I was here to offer her a better option.

"You look good enough to eat," I said, leaning into her ear.

"I don't think I'm going to take that as a compliment coming from you. No offense."

"None taken. What's your pleasure, lover?"

"My pleasure?" she asked, a blush crossing her face as she looked over at Bill. I remembered at that moment to breathe, and that's when I knew what had changed. She didn't smell the same.

"You're not a virgin!" I exclaimed.

"Not that it's any of your business, but no I'm not."

"How exactly did this happen?" I could feel the beast within me rising. This was my woman, whatever her name was. I was supposed to claim her.

"Well, you see, when a man and a woman love each other, sometimes they choose to express their love by something we call sex," she said, the laughter brimming over in her eyes.

"I know that!" I spat out. I would have to show her; show her exactly what that kind of behavior got her. "I meant who? You were a virgin last time you were here."

Her eyes widened with shock and she shook her head at me. "How would you know that?"

"I'm a vampire," I said, sitting up straighter, "I can smell these things."

"That's disgusting," she said. "What exactly does a virgin smell like? Flowers and springtime?"

"No," I said, anger rising inside of me. She was mocking me. "But once you are used, I can smell the man on you. In you."

"Ew," she said, laughing slightly. "How unfortunate for you, always smelling another man on the women you're with."

"They soon forget," I said with a shrug. "I have been told I'm an excellent lover."

"I'm sure you have," she scoffed.

"I'd be willing to show you. I can do it better than Compton there," I leaned back, spreading my legs to show her exactly what she was missing. Her eyes followed down the length of my body and bulged at the site of what was barely hidden behind the red lyrca.

"Jesus Christ Shepherd of Judea," she cried out, looking up at me. "Do you have to have a license for that thing?"

"What, like a concealed weapon permit?"

"Something like that."

I laughed, thrusting my hips up towards her. "Wanna give it a go?"

"Is it always hard like that?"

"Yeah," I said with a shrug. It had been ever since Bub did his little thing.

"That must be uncomfortable."

"It's convenient," I said. "I'm always ready to fuck you, lover."

"It's Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse." She blushed, looking down at the hem of her white dress. "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass on that."

"Why?"

"I'm Bill's."

"You're Bill's?" I asked with a laugh? "What does that mean?"

"It means I am not going to have sex with you. Not now. Not ever."

I looked over at the crowd of fangbangers that had amassed and was watching our interchange. "You can't be serious."

"I've never been more serious," she replied.

"I could have any of those women over there. Or men. Any of them."

"Then go to it," she said simply.

"You don't want to fuck me?"

"Not especially."

I pushed up off my stool. "You'll change your mind, lover. And when you do, I will be ready and waiting." I waved my hand over the front of my pants. "Promise you'll think of this next time you fuck Compton."

Her eyes widened with shock as I turned around and walked away. I could feel her eyes on my backside as I walked towards the fangbangers – these pants did things for all of my assets.

I wouldn't be losing any sleep over Sookie Stackhouse. Not any more time either. She'd come around to me. They all did.

Until then, I had to do my duty. I had a legend to uphold – The Legend of the Permaboner.

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**AN: **Never fear, this was just a little fluffy one-shot. We will resume our normal programming later in the week. :D

Hope you enjoyed it!


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** And he's baaaccckkkk.

Return of the Permaboner: The Hard Existence of a Viking Vampire

I was bored.

Freaking bored.

I am a thousand year old vampire; it would stand to reason that I would get bored from time to time. There was little in my existence which could surprise or excite me anymore. I had traveled everywhere, seen everything, and had done everything (and everyone, naturally). Now, sitting in the office of my vampire bar/tourist trap, I couldn't think of anything except how excruciatingly bored I was.

"Sigh," I said aloud, in case the minions wouldn't understand the action itself. It appeared they hadn't, since I'd been sitting here sighing listlessly for the past five minutes to no effect.

"What's that?" the one called Ginger asked, looking up from her duties of scrubbing the last fangbanger's juices from the floor at my feet. "Did you say 'fry'?" she continued, sitting back and twirling a strand of over-processed hair in her finger as she blinked in my direction.

"Ginger!" my number one lackey, Pam Ravenscroft barked, walking across the polished floor and avoiding the piles of fangbanger remnants along the way (she did have a new pair of pumps on, of course). "Why in the world would the master say 'fry'?" She stopped in front of Ginger and knocked on her obviously empty head, a hollow sound echoing in my superior vampire hearing.

I chuckled, briefly amused before sinking back into the ennui that surrounded my existence. I had been feeling lack luster for at least the last fifty years, and likely the hundred years before that. There was that brief moment of interest when I had come upon that blonde actress and the American president with the atrocious accent (and I do literally mean come across), but even that was a fleeting moment. Shame really, I would have rather liked to explore that further, but of course my annoying blood brother had to go and ruin that too. I mean really, he was Russian royalty, big fucking deal. He was a pain in the ass, and not in a good way.

I sighed again, louder this time, which had the desired effect since Pam stopped her methodical grinding of her stiletto into Ginger's hand and looked over at me.

"Master?" she asked, kicking Ginger against the door with little effort. My eyes crinkled as I watched Ginger's limp body slink down to the floor. It was so very difficult to find good help these days. While Ginger wasn't exactly the brightest bulb, she at least could take a licking and keep on ticking (much like my favorite possession in life that resided in my pants).

"What?" I asked petulantly.

"Is there something wrong?" Pam asked, using her vampire speed to kneel at my side, like all good subjects do.

I sighed again.

"Master," she said, more sternly this time, "I am fully aware that you do not need to breathe. Abby has said that frequent sighing is often a sign of displeasure. What is this sighing about? You sound like that woman with the funny name when she talks about that Compton fellow."

"Pamela!" I barked, wrapping my hand around her throat. How dare she question me? How dare she compare me to someone such as the woman with the funny name? My fingers loosened as I recalled Funny Name's latest visit to Fangtasia. She had looked quite delicious with her back shredded as such. It took all of my restraint to stop myself from splooging into her wounds when Bill was in the room. Thankfully, Pam had tricked him into leaving the room briefly by mentioning that the General Lee was visiting (the Vampire soldier, not to be confused with the Dodge Charger driven by the two redneck imbeciles. Funny story about the later, well not quite funny, but I did have fond memories of that particular vehicle and the woman in the jean shorts that I had been fellated by on the hood), which had given me ample opportunity to share my magic love lotion with Funny Name before that midget doctor came in and cleaned her out.

"Yes Master?" Pam asked, with an impertinent smirk.

"I am," I growled, then sighed. "Bored."

"Would you like me to bring in the next fangbanger? The line is quite long and wide this evening."

"That's what she said," I said, though my heart wasn't in it. Pam smile, appropriately so, though didn't say anything else. "Pamela," I said, "don't you ever feel bored?"

Her jaw dropped – from the honor of my discussion of so called feelings I am sure – and she shook her head. "Rarely, Master." She bent down and picked up the towel that I had dropped on the floor after cleaning the last fangbanger off of me. "Has your towel been cleaned to your satisfaction?" she asked. "Do you like the new detergent I've been using?"

I nodded, frowning at her change in subject, then sighing again. "It's fine Pamela," I said, leaning back and linking my hands behind my head. I sighed. "I suppose I am ready for the next warm hole. Make it something interesting this time."

Pam's eyes gleamed and she nodded. "I've just the group you need," she said, and with her vampire speed was out the door, Ginger's limp body thrown over her shoulder.

The door opened seconds later, and two women on their hands and knees crawled in, followed by a man in leather who was holding their harnesses. I groaned and shook my head. Pony fetishes? Again? I had been bored with the hoof checking forty years ago; what would make this different today? I would definitely have to discuss my displeasure of repetition with Pamela before the next round. But, I was a vampire with a job to do, and a reputation to uphold.

I looked down at the bulge in my pants and gave it a small pat. "It's show time."

.

Part of being the Vampire Sheriff and Ultimate Boss of Area 5 was that I could do what I wanted, whenever I wanted it, and tonight when I'd risen from the dead, I decided that what I wanted was to needle one Mr. William Compton, general pain in the ass (again, not in the good way). Pamela had agreed to oversee my duties at Fangtasia, not that she had much choice as my minion.

I chuckled to myself as I looked in my closet and found exactly what I was looking for. Bill had always had a fear of all things horse-like after his last trip to Tijuana, and the fancy dress unicorn costume would be perfect. I dressed with care in my tightest pink and aqua spandex – it's always best to be prepared for anything – hopped into my red corvette and soon found myself on the road towards Bumblefuck, Louisiana. It wasn't often that I made the journey out of Shreveport, but could you blame me? Tree after tree, swamp after swamp, it all looked the same. The only thing that broke the monotony was the sounds of cousins bumping uglies that echoed along the road out to this town of Bon Temps. I had done cousins before (naturally, I had done everything, remember?) and while it had been amusing the first thousand times, I didn't particularly enjoy using my prized asset in tune with the sounds of banjo music.

"Just be patient down there," I said to the bulge in my spandex, "if tonight goes as planned, you will get to come out and play."

My boner twitched in agreement, then settled itself firmly against my pelvis, ready to strike at any given moment.

The Compton residence was empty when I arrived, not even the sound of Bill's poor attempts at Wii Golf echoing through the house. I threw off the hooves and hat in disgust; no point in dressing like a unicorn if Bill wasn't around to torment.

"Sigh," I said, mainly to myself since there didn't appear to be anyone around. I climbed back into my corvette and drove to the nearest watering hole, which was owned by that mangy dog Sam Merlotte. There was only one thing I hated more than a shifter, and that was erectile dysfunction. Thankfully I didn't have to worry about that anymore.

I entered the bar, very bored whilst doing so I can tell you, and paused at the entrance for dramatic effect. As expected, all the ladies stared at me longingly, licking their lips as they surveyed the legend that was my body and my boner. I turned around, wiggling my ass for the full effect, and that's when I spotted her. The one with the Funny Name. She looked like she had been crying, though that only made me want to use her tears as lubrication.

I flew over to where she stood (what good is the ability to fly if not to get to the lady I was going to bone faster?) and cleared my throat. She turned around, apparently aroused by my nearness if her gasp was any indication.

"Hello lover," I said with a quirk of my eyebrow.

"Eric!" she exclaimed, her hand flying over her breast and caressing it. She couldn't resist touching herself around me, despite her protests otherwise. "What are you doing here?" she continued, her eyes trailing down my body.

"Why don't you come sit on my lap and we can talk about the first thing that pops up?" I asked, with my most charming smirk that was sure to make her panties melt.

She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hip. "Let's say we don't?" she asked. "And what in the hell are you wearing?"

"Do you like it, lover?" I asked, thrusting my hips in her direction.

"I am not your lover, Eric," she said, shaking her head, though unable to remove her eyes from Eric Jr.

"Formalities, lover," I said, shaking my head. "Formalities."

"What are you doing here?" she repeated.

"Looking for Bill," I said with a shrug.

Her hand flew quickly, though naturally my reflexes were quicker, as she tried to slap my face. I captured her hands in mine and shook my head down at her. "What is that for, lover?"

"You know darn well where Bill Compton is," she spat, this time lashing out with her feet at me.

"Why," I growled, picking her up and swinging her over my shoulder before she could protest, "would I be looking for him if I knew where he was?"

She cried out, her mouth precariously close to my world-famous ass. I knew it was a cry of delight, despite the way she was punching it. I suppose she could be testing it to see if it was real, or a stunt double. Oh it was real all right, 100% genuine vampire ass, with a wiggle and no jiggle.

"Sookie!" the furry one called from behind the bar. My eyes snapped to his, my fangs dropping in a silent fuck you to the mangy mutt.

"Sam!" she cried, still pounding against my rock hard ass.

"I shall be taking Sookie home," I said, her odd name rolling off my tongue. I was never going to remember that name. Who in the hell named their kid Sookie anyway? Everyone knew that the only appropriate name for a baby girl was Freyja, or possibly Aude if said parent was feeling a bit foot loose and fancy free. Either way, I shall continue to refer to this blonde delight squirming in my arms as "lover", much easier that way.

Before the mutt could do anything (and it wasn't as if he could turn into anything in front of his patron's eyes since his kind were still in the closet right next to R Kelly) I was out the door. In my effort to keep the squirming bundle of holes in my future still, I failed to notice the hoard of fangbangers that was approaching with alarming speed for mere humans. Why, it was only the sound of a familiar grunt that caught my attention, and it was a good thing since the fangbanger in question was quickly cutting the distance between us, stake in hand.

Thankfully, I was as quick witted as I was agile, and I turned at the last moment, the stake sliding into Lover's side. With the speed only a vampire possesses, I managed to maim the gaggle of fangbanger's while Lover lay limply over my shoulder, and when the last man was felled, I ripped the top of my spandex off to wipe off the dirt that was covering poor Lover's stake wound. With one quick suck on her intoxicating blood, I began to run, instinctively knowing where her house was.

The night was dark as I tore down Hummingbird Lane, the wind whipping through my hair, which tangled with the blood oozing from Lover's side. Pam was going to kill me if my most recent dye job got ruined. There was one thing Pam was the master of, and that was bleach. Bleach on the towel, bleach in my hair. It was the one area I could easily admit I had no experience in.

"Invite me in," I said, pausing at her door step. She groaned in pain.

"Invite me in!" I repeated.

It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to break the magic spell that kept me out of her house. And I was certain it would be enough to break the magic spell that kept me out of her pants, for really, what other explanation could there be other than magic? I was a legend. The phallus in my pants was not denied entry into any gate, at any time, unless there was some higher power at work.

"Bill," Lover whimpered, as I lay her on the tile floor of her bathroom.

"Eric," I ground out. I may not be bothered to learn her name, but she damned well better know mine.

She groaned and rolled to her side, the gaping hole an invitation for my eager body. I leaned down and cleaned the wound with my tongue, savoring the vintage of her blood. No wonder Compton had attempted to keep her to himself. She had a bit of faerie to her – and I don't mean Friend of Dorothy faerie, though that held its appeal too – and she was fairly intoxicating.

Only when I felt her heart begin to slow did I recall what I needed to do. I reluctantly sat up and tore my own wrist open, encouraging her to drink as I stripped her of her clothes. I was nothing, if not enterprising. My boner became even harder if possible as her lips tugged at my blood, and I wondered why I had not had the forethought to open the skin of my boner for her to suck. Maybe next time.

Her eyes fluttered open when she had had a significant amount of my blood, and she looked up at me in startled confusion.

"Eric?" she asked, her mouth ringed with my blood.

"Yes, lover?"

"What happened?"

"Shhh," I said, shaking my head in disappointment as I watched the hole in her side close. There would be more opportunity to drink from her, perhaps from my favorite vein in her thigh; or perhaps I could get her to drink from my neck as I drank from hers; it was one of the few things I truly enjoyed doing, when I found a worthy partner, and Lover was proving to be a worthy partner.

"I-" she said, blinking up at me. "My, I never noticed how handsome you are."

I grinned down at her. "Of course you did."

"Of course I did," she repeated, licking her lips to get the last drop of blood off the corner of her mouth. "My, I feel kind of funny. Drunk almost."

"It's the blood," I murmured, running my hands along the length of her naked body.

"V?" she asked, uncertainly.

"Straight from the spout," I affirmed.

"Oh my," she whimpered, squirming against me.

I looked down at the mess of blood over her body, a lock of my once blonde hair falling over my eye.

"Oh shit," I said, standing up. "I need to get this blood out of my hair, lest I should need to cut it off."

The remnants of my spandex tore off my body with ease, and I flew into the shower, never letting go of Lover's naked body, which was a good thing since she went limp in my arms. It wasn't the first time a woman had swooned at the sight of me; I was quite impressive. She shrieked as the cold water hit her skin – silly humans with their need for hot water – and clung to my side as the water poured over us, tinging red as it washed the mixture of our blood off of each other.

"I feel an overwhelming urge to kiss you," she said, rubbing her breasts against me.

"Not yet," I said, scrubbing the blood out of my hair with her Herbal Essences shampoo.

She pouted, then defied my orders, standing on her tiptoes and entwining her hands with mine to massage my scalp. "Eric," she whimpered. "I need you."

It was like a lightning bolt in my nether regions. The peen shot to painful attention (though it was at attention already) and demanded to be inserted in any of Lover's holes.

"Lover," I groaned, pulling her tightly against me. We gyrated as the water poured over us, Lover dedicating an inordinate amount of attention to my ass (who thanked me personally). My hands went to work, bringing her to her first of what would surely be many screaming orgasms. I was shooting for at least thirty-two before the night was over.

"Tell me how good I am, Lover," I demanded.

"So good," she whimpered.

"Tell me how large I am, Lover."

"Gigantic. Your penis is like the King Kong of all penises," she cried, her hands encircling the peen in question – and it does take two hands, we are speaking of my boner after all. "It's… good gracious," she sighed, "a gracious plenty."

I nodded in agreement. It wasn't the first time I'd heard it referred to as such.

"Tell me how it tastes," I demanded, pushing her head down to meet the gracious plenty in question.

"What?" she asked.

"Tell me how it tastes!" I repeated when I had forced her onto her knees.

She quirked her eyebrow and shrugged, licking the very tip. "It tastes like water."

"You insolent woman!" I barked, turning off the water and tossing a very wet Lover over my shoulder. There was no time to dry off, nor did I imagine she had the quality of towel I demanded. There was only one towel that could do the trick, and I hadn't thought to bring it along. I would make sure to fluff it upon my return to Fangtasia. "Anyone could describe the taste of my penis better than you! Anyone."

I threw her back on the bed, smirking as her fear was replaced with excitement.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, hopeful and expectant.

"I should spank you," I barked.

She bit her lower lip and nodded slowly. "You should."

"But I won't."

"You won't?" she asked, almost disappointed.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Absolutely not. You will receive no pleasure until you tell me how I look, taste, smell and feel. And I want detail." I lay back on the bed, and nodded towards my legendary boner. "Proceed."

Her hands and mouth covered my body, something that should have excited me, but alas it didn't. Even weird named Lover wasn't enough to pull me out of the overwhelming sense of apathy I had been feeling as of late.

I sighed.

"What?" she asked, her head popping up from her ministrations and worshipping of my gracious plenty.

"I'm just," I sighed again, propping myself up on my elbows.

"Just what?" she asked with a frown.

"Bored."

"Bored?" she asked, her mouth forming a perfect oval of shock.

"Yes," I flopped back on the bed behind me. "I am a thousand years old. I have done everything you could imagine. This," I waved my hand between her mouth and the legend, "is fine, but… not enough."

She sat back on her feet, her body deliciously bare to me. My legend screamed at me to sink into her, and I shook my head at it. "Soon enough," I whispered. "Soon enough my pretty."

"What?" Lover asked. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "I just wish we could do something that was more exciting."

"More exciting than this?" she asked, cupping her breasts with her own hands.

I nodded. She did have a nice rack, but it wasn't enough. There was only one thing that could be enough.

"What, pray tell," she asked, with a tone of defiance, "would be 'enough'?"

"Well," I said, sitting up alert. "There is one thing that I've always wanted to try."

She frowned, though didn't say anything, motioning for me to continue. This was going to be easier than I thought. I pulled her down on top of me, the length of her body against mine, and ran my fingers along her spine until they reached the destination between her legs. Much easier to get acquiescence after an orgasm, which came about in record time.

As she lay panting against me, I resumed my speech.

"While I cannot remember in great detail," I started off slowly. Of course I could remember in great detail, but Lover didn't seem like the kind of woman who would want to hear about things like my past conquests; much better to pretend to have forgotten. "I am sure that I have done most everything sexually. But there is something that would interest me; something that would perk me right up."

My hands departed her epicenter and circled to her rather delightful behind and paused.

"What?" she asked with a whimper, as my tongue delved into her ear.

My fingers inched closer to my desired landing spot. "Have you ever…?" I asked, lowering my voice to whisper in her ear, asking the question I had longed to ask.

"What?" she paused. "What?" she shrieked, sitting up and slapping my hand away.

"In the butt…" I trailed off.

She jumped off the bed, quickly covering herself with the nearest piece of cloth, which happened to be an incredibly ugly afghan.

"What?" she said, shaking her head.

"I fail to see the issue," I growled. "Everyone does it. You'll enjoy it. I promise. I will bring you hours of pleasure. All you have to do is say yes."

"If 'everyone' does it, then why are you pretending you've never done it before? Wouldn't you be as bored with that as you are with everything else?" she asked, logically. Damn her and her three brain cells.

"Lover," I sighed. She was right, of course she was right. She was a far cry from the first woman who I would take in that arena, but I thrived on knowing I would be her _first_. "Technicalities. You will enjoy it. Now, yield to me!" I commanded.

"I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "In fact," she blinked, standing up straight. "I don't think I will enjoy anything with you."

"I would say your two orgasms in the last ten minutes would dispute that statement." I couldn't help but grin at her defiant stance. Silly girl, did she not know that I always got what I wanted?

"You!" she gasped. "You tricked me! You drugged me with your stupid blood."

"As you drugged me," I said, sitting up with a shrug. "It's not every day I imbibe faerie blood."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your blood, Lover," I said, stalking across the room towards her. "It tastes deliciously of faerie. And do you know what vampires do to faeries?"

"I haven't a clue," she said, backing away from me. "But it sure as heck better not be sticking it in their ass."

"Darling," I chuckled. "We mustn't dwell on that, though you will yield to me." It was a command, not a request. "No, vampires rather like to eat faeries. Would you like me to eat you?"

She shuddered. "Not particularly."

"No?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow. "I should rather like to add to your orgasm count tonight."

"You could fill an entire jar with orgasms and I wouldn't let you anywhere near me Eric Northman! I am Bill's!"

"But Bill is missing," I pointed out. "And I hear humans get lonely. I'd be more than happy to fill the void he left."

"Get out," she commanded.

"Lover," I said with a chuckle. "Don't you mean, get over here?"

"No," she said defiantly.

I ignored her. Ridiculous humans didn't know what they wanted until you gave it to them. I was over to her in a flash, the afghan thrown over my shoulder to reveal her perfect form to me. Before she could say anything, my fingers were once again inside of her.

"Come for me lover," I commanded.

"Unbelievable," she said, her body shaking against mine. "I rescind your invitation!"

The room shook around me, both with magic and my rage as I was pulled away from her. I looked into her mocking face, atop her flushed body and growled.

"Lover," I barked as I was pulled away. "This isn't the last you'll see of me!"

And it wouldn't be. No, I had had a taste of the one with the weird name. And I didn't care what I had to do to pick up where I had left off. I was a thousand year old vampire; I was the master of everything around me; a veritable Viking sex god. It did not matter if I had to coerce her into coming back to me; she would come back to me, and then she would come.

Thirty two times.

**AN:** This has been written for some time, it was just waiting for the awesomeness that is the banner that **peppermintyrose** made for me. Without her, the permaboner would not be possible :D Link to banner is on my profile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Permaboner: The Arousal**

It had been nearly a month since my last encounter with the oddly-named Sookie Stackhouse, not that I had been counting. No, my duties as the Sheriff of Area Five kept me far too busy to track something as simple as that. Besides, I had had her for one night; a man of my status did not bone a woman for more than one night. There were too many women in the world desperate to get a piece of me to allow one to have me for more than one evening. And really, one evening was more than most got. I cannot even begin to tell you the complaints I received after being gone from Fangtasia that night I'd spent in the backwoods town of Bon Temps.

I wished I could forget her, if I was being honest. I had never struggled to forget women in the past – they were expendable, disposable, and most times quite bendy (which was a bonus). There was that one time when I broke one of them, but really, she should be honored that I even bothered with her.

But this Sookie character…there was something about her that kept me awake during the day; something about her that made me curious to know what she was doing all the time.

"Master," Pam called, interrupting my thoughts of sinking my teeth into the delectable artery located on the inside of Sookie's thigh.

"What is it?"

"I just got off the phone with Bobby. He said that the installation was a success."

This was excellent news. My unquenchable need to know Sookie's every movement was soon to be satisfied. There was no point in having all this money (and good looks, naturally) if I could not use it to satisfy myself. The $50,000 surveillance system I'd had installed in Sookie's farmhouse was probably worth more than the building itself, but I didn't particularly care. I had offered to move her into one of my luxury condos (the one with the bondage den, of course), but the little minx had refused. So I had, as they say, decided to move the mountain to Moses.

"Is the feed live?" I asked, pointing to the monitors Pam had installed in my office.

"I believe so."

"Believe so? Shouldn't you know? I swear Pam, you need to get your act together!"

I thought I saw Pam roll her eyes – but of course she wouldn't do that. No one rolls their eyes at me! – before she walked over to the monitor and turned it on. The screen blurred for a short period of time before coming into focus – there were ten cameras installed throughout Sookie's house, each camera receiving a devoted section on one of the large monitors and the camera in her bedroom getting its own screen. I knew how much women liked to be filmed in their bedroom – my nightly viewing of Sliver had taught me so. Plus, I was looking forward to watching her touch herself and to hearing my name escaping her lips, as I knew it would.

"You can leave now, Pamela," I instructed, dismissing her with a wave of my hand and a flash of my fangs.

I needed to be alone with the footage of Sookie. There were some things I needed to take care of that did not involve Pam.

"Please send in the next fangbanger," I called as she exited the door. "And make her blonde!"

Sure enough, not even five seconds later, a tiny blonde woman came parading through the door. I looked at her skeptically – her hair was not the right shade of yellow, nor were her boobs the appropriate size, but she would have to do.

"Here, put this on," I said, shoving a Bon Temps High School Football t-shirt in her direction.

The bloodbag looked at me questionably for a moment before she shrugged and took off her skintight black dress and did as I said. I did so like submissive compliance in my womenfolk.

With lightening fast speed, I grabbed the woman and bent her over my desk, thrusting into her with the force only a powerful vampire (and former Viking!) can possess. Her grunts and groans were loud – annoyingly so – but I did not care. No, I was too busy watching the busty blonde on the monitor as she scrubbed the toilet in her bathroom. I imagined her bent over the sink as I pounded into her. I knew she would love it; all women did.

At the moment my lover looked over her shoulder, I came with the force of one thousand rockets, splurting my vampire-blend jizz into the wet hole in front of me. I sunk my fangs into the side of her neck, drinking the blend of passion and fear with a waggle of my eyebrows.

"That is all," I said, throwing the used bloodbag out the door. This surveillance system was almost as good as having Sookie beneath me. At least this way, I was able to get my own pleasure without her incessant whining about her feelings and how I "hurt her". Ungrateful, I tell you.

I didn't even bother to clean up the bloody-jizzy mess. That was what I made Pam for anyway. Besides, there was always a towel lying about somewhere to sop up the mess.

"Pamela!" I pulled on a pair of black track pants and a matching tank top – I knew what my fans enjoyed seeing me in – and ran my hand through my pristine blond hair, only half thinking of that Sookie character when I did.

"Yes, Eric?" Pam asked, teetering into the room on a pair of ridiculously high heels. (Women and their shoes!)

"What is my schedule for the evening?"

"Why?"

"Are you being insubordinate?"

"Never, Eric."

"Good. I would hate to have to cut off your clothing allowance. Or take away your monthly subscription to Dear Abby."

"Anything but that!" The look on her face is genuinely panicked. I am the master of everything around me.

"Do I have arrangements to see to this evening?"

"There is a long line of bloodbags waiting for a turn with your permaboner," she started. "And I believe Bill Compton wanted you to call him. He went to Peru you know, probably shagging llamas."

I snorted, but only because it was bound to be true. Bill Compton really was pond scum. In fact, I knew he was the worst vampire in the history of vampires. All that talk about assimilating was nothing more than a ruse, and boy oh boy, if I told Sookie about his deal with the Rattrays, I knew she'd be mine forever.

"I will be going to Bon Temps," I said, pushing back from my chair.

"But Eric. Where will I go? What will I do? There's a line of thousands out there."

"Frankly, my dear Pamela. I don't give a damn."

…

The flight to Bon Temps was quick; the wind barely ruffling my perfectly coifed hair. In no time, I stood outside of Sookie's house. I saw her through the window, doing some awkward, jerky movements that appear to be a dance of some sort. I raised my hand to knock on the door and was mere millimeters away when a noise from the woods alerted me.

I darted, lightening-speed, to its source and was surprised by what I find – well, maybe surprised isn't the right word. It wasn't terribly out of character.

"Little Willy Compton," I said, coming to a stop in front of him. He really was pathetic, hiding out in the woods like this.

"Eric," he growled, sounding like a werewolf. He smelled like one too. I covered my nose with my hand to disguise the stench.

"What are you doing?"

"I would think that would be apparent." And it was. With his pants around his ankles, and his excuse for a penis in the grip of his hand, there was no mistaking exactly what he had been doing.

"I do not mean that," I said, pointing to the motion of his hand. "I meant what are you doing hiding in the woods of Sookie's house, doing that?"

"She is _mine!_" he barked. His breathing sped up, tiny grunts coming out as he continued to pleasure himself. "I've been here every night since my return from Lorena. I haven't seen you here." His face distorted for a brief second before he cried out Sookie's name and collapsed on the hard ground.

Amateur.

I stepped over his body, still shaking with his unending orgasm. I counted at least thirty-two separate ejaculations. At least he was dedicated. But I do not need to deal with Bill Compton. Not when the sweet nectar of his desire – and my own – was mere steps away.

I flew to the door, raising my hand and knocking furiously. If only Sookie hadn't been so stupid as to rescind my invitation. I could be inside her house – inside her – before she knew it.

"Eric," she said as soon as the door swung open. She cocked her hip out to the side, resting a balled fist on the curve of her waist. The hem of her Bon Temps t-shirt hung just above the waist of her cutoffs, exposing enough skin to make me harder than I was before, as if that were possible. I could cut diamonds with my boner as it was. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't sound very happy to see me. We would need to work on this. I'm Eric Northman after all. She should be on her knees and blowing me by now.

"I came to tell you that Bill Compton is out in your woods."

She attempted to look over my shoulder, which was impossible since I was so big and strong.

"I don't see him."

"He's huddled on the ground," I said, pushing against the invisible barrier. "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Are you crazy?" she asked. "No way am I ever letting another vampire into my house. Not after last time."

Memories of her naked and beneath me flashed before my eyes. I would have the same tonight, of that I was sure. I might have to get creative, but that was one thing I excelled at.

"Bill Compton," I lowered my voice confidentially. "Is looking through your windows and masturbating in your woods. I came to protect you."

"Ew," she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "You're joking."

"I'm afraid not."

"That's sick. Who does that to someone cleaning?"

"I do not know," I said with a shrug. It was, of course, very different to fuck a bloodbag to the image of her scrubbing her toilet; I am a vampire and a sheriff (not to mention a Viking!) and sex was necessary to my very existence. It was not something dirty like jerking it in the woods. Depraved animal. "I am afraid he will come up to your porch and attempt to masturbate here. Perhaps he will make you watch him."

"I don't want to see anyone masturbating," she said. "Ever."

"I think I hear him!" I said, filling my voice with false panic. Those acting classes in LA paid off, because at the mere thought, Sookie rushes me inside and closes the door.

"I cannot believe the nerve of that man!" she screeched. "Whacking off in my front yard after leaving me for Lorena? Pfft."

"I would never leave you," I whispered. Women liked to hear things like that; I knew because I watched a lot of Lifetime movies. With Pam of course; she did so love the ones with Tori Spelling in them.

"That's kind of creepy too," she said with a look of disgust. "What have I done to attract so many gosh-danged vampires? Golly gee."

I could tell her that her blood sent me into a frenzy; that the curve of her breasts made me titanium hard; that I loved the smell of her female juices as they ran down her leg; but that hadn't worked out for me so last time.

"You are irresistible, Sookie Stackhouse."

She rolled her eyes, turned around and began heading to the kitchen. "Would you care for a TrueBlood, Eric? I think I still have some rolling about in my refrigerator from last time you were here."

"Sure."

Lies.

I didn't want TrueBlood; I wanted Sookie blood; and Sookie juice. Why didn't she know that? I would need to bond with her, then I could force my will upon her; that was all there was to it.

I watched, motionless, as she put the bottle of blood in the microwave and turned it on.

"How have you been, Eric?"

"Miserable without you."

"Very funny."

"You complete me." Hah! That little scientologist had used that line and it had worked rather well for him.

"Eric."

"You had me at hello?"

"Stop!"

"Sookie." I used my vampire speed to move to her, stopping only when my face was inches from hers.

"What?" she asked, breathlessly. Despite her protests, I could smell her arousal at my nearness. That's right folks, Eric Northman has got it going on.

"I just want to fuck you and bite you and _rub myself_ all over you."

"Really?" she practically chokes.

"Really," I nodded. "Would you like that?"

"I…um…" she trailed off. I could hear the rapidly increasing beat of her heart. She wanted me.

"Sookie," I whispered, baring my fangs and resting my forehead against hers. "Shall we go to your bedroom?"

I did not give her a chance to respond, swooping her up Rhett Butler style (it is her favorite movie after all) and carrying her into her bedroom.

"Strip for me," I insisted.

"What?" she asked, shaking her head. "No. I shouldn't. I-"

I interrupted her by slashing my wrist open and shoving the flowing blood into her open mouth.

"Eric!" she shrieked, trying to pull away. I used my other hand to hold her head still. Her protests quickly turned into moans of gratification. Vampire blood straight from the source was the single most effective method to getting her to bend to my will; I would need to remember that.

"Oh Eric," she said when she finally pulled away. Her eyes were glazed over, and a large smile plastered across her face.

"Strip for me," I repeated, and sat back as she did exactly as I asked. It was pure pleasure to watch her, knowing that Bill Compton could see what was unfolding, and knowing that my surveillance system was capturing all of this for my later viewing pleasure.

I stopped her when she got down to the white industrial sized panties she was wearing. "Let me," I instructed, tucking my thumbs inside the elastic and shredding them off her body.

I caught her as her knees weakened, pulling her now naked body to me.

"Hello lover," I mumbled.

"Eric," she pleaded, "Now."

Never one to disappoint, I removed my clothes in lightning speed and rammed my gracious plenty into her. The juices flowing from between her legs could only be equated to Victoria Falls.

"Eric!" she moaned.

I smirked and began to waggle my eyebrows as I pumped into her, harder and faster. She liked it rough, no doubt about it, and I could jackhammer her like no other. Next time I would have to bring the bondage gear Pam got me for Christmas, but for now I would need to make do with my natural talents and abilities, which were plentiful.

Unable to wait any longer, I sunk my teeth into her flesh, drinking the sweet nectar of her body.

"Bite me," I instructed, lifting my mouth from her neck and tracing my tongue around the marks I'd left before sinking back in.

"What?" she asked dazedly.

"Bite me," I repeated, not bothering to lift my fangs.

"How is that possible?" she asked. "My neck doesn't bend that way."

I counted to one-thousand (vampire speed) in my head. She wasn't the smartest woman I had ever been with, but I couldn't deny her appeal. I lifted my head and bent her neck into the appropriate position, forcing her to bite and drink from me, and then go-go gadgeted my own neck to accommodate the double bite. It was incredibly sexy, naturally.

At the pull of her lips against my neck, I exploded, sending buckets of semen into her dripping vagina. The power of my seed pouring into her was enough to send her over the edge, and she began milking me like a dairy farmer.

I left her with a kiss on her forehead when she finally succumbed to slumber, taking her discarded t-shirt and torn underwear with me for later use. It felt good to leave her like this – fully sated and not angry for once.

…

"What do you mean, she is at work?" I demanded, flinging my stapler at Pam's head as she relayed the news. It had been three weeks since Sookie and I had rekindled our relationship. She had finally come to her senses and agreed to fuck me on a regular basis. That meant that she had sex with no one else, which was how I liked it. She had a hard time understanding that sating the bloodbags of Area 5 was part of my duty as Sheriff, but she was slowly coming around.

"She's at work," Pam repeated. "She said she would call you when she had her break."

"Why is she still working?" I growled. "I sent her a text telling her to quit her job."

"You know how independent she is," Pam replied, with a roll of her eyes. She raised her voice, drawing out her vowels in imitation of Sookie's southern accent. "I can take care of myself. You tell Eric that I'm keeping my job."

"Insubordinate woman!"

"She does have beautiful breasts though."

This was true.

"Do not think about my woman's breasts!" I command. Only I should do that. And I did. All the time. I had watched the video collage Bobby had assembled of us together three times since rising from my dead time. It wasn't the same as being there in her, but it would have to do until I could go and see her again, or better yet, get her to come and see me.

"Try to get her on the phone again."

"She won't talk to you."

"Pamela!" I growled.

She walked towards my desk, picking up the receiver and dialing a series of numbers that was undoubtedly Merlotte's main line.

"Merlotte's, where our bark is worse than your bite," Sookie's familiar voice said after two rings.

"Lover," I grunted. I did not like that shifter's attempt at humor. Everyone knew a bite was worse than a bark. Imbecile.

"Eric?"

"Who else would call you lover?" I demanded. There was no way she would dare dream of taking another lover after me. As they say, _Once you've gone a Viking, everyone else can take a hiking._

"I thought I told Pam that I was busy at work and couldn't talk."

"That's what I'm calling you about. What are you doing at work? I thought I told you to quit your job."

"And I thought I told you that I need money, Eric," she huffed. "I have bills to pay."

"I _have _money. I told you I'd share." I was not going to get frustrated. I tried not to forget that women in this day and age had the misguided belief that independence was important. I hoped this "women's liberation" movement ended soon. I wished it were like it used to be, where I could keep my pets naked and in my bed.

"Eric. I can't just take your money."

"Why not?"

"Because then I'd be no better than a prostitute sleeping with you for money."

"Why would it matter? You're going to have sex with me anyway. Then you wouldn't be tired from work. I do not want to come to your house and have you too tired to fuck, Sookie. That was unacceptable last night."

"Eric!" I could sense her blush from a distance. "I can't talk about this with you right now."

"Why not?"

"I've got to go." And then she hung up on me. She. Hung. Up. On. Me. If only I wasn't addicted to her intoxicating blood. This type of defiance would require a beheading at the very least.

"Pamela, I want you to go visit Sookie later tonight. You must make her understand how important it is to be at my beck and call. Perhaps she will understand it better coming from a woman." It was apparent she wasn't going to understand it coming from me.

"Of course, Eric."

…

Two hours later, at precisely midnight, I turned my attention away from the latest in a string of bloodbags and looked at the monitors that dominated the far wall of my office. The image of Sookie walking through her door, a look of frustration on her face, filled the tiny screen that monitored her living room.

"Get out," I barked, kicking the half naked fangbanger out the door.

I quickly turned on the surround sound and seated myself in the lazy boy Pam had position for my viewing pleasure last week. She had thankfully seen the error of her ways in the arrangement of the monitors, and had come to this solution. She was forever doing things incorrectly, but perhaps she would make up for her behavior with her mission tonight.

"Come on in, Pam," Sookie said, turning back to face the front door.

"What a _lovely_ place you have here," Pam replied sarcastically, coming into view.

"Thank you," Sookie said, clearly misinterpreting Pam's tone. "Would you care for a TrueBlood? I went and picked up some A positive last night. I know it's one of Eric's favorites." I smiled as a delicious blush crawled up Sookie's neck. I could almost see the blood flowing through her veins at her neck, and my fangs immediately extend.

"Oh no," Pam said, with a look of disgust. "I never drink synthetic." She moved closer to Sookie, reaching out and smoothing her hand over Sookie's back.

"Oh," Sookie frowned. "Um. Okay. Well, what can I do you for then?"

Pam looked directly into one of the hidden cameras and quirked her eyebrow at me. She was trying my patience, and would be rewarded with a night on the rack if she kept this up.

"Now that you're dating my maker-"

"I don't know that we're 'dating' necessarily," Sookie replied, her blush growing over her chest.

"Fucking him," Pam shrugged. "Whatever you call it. Now that you're with him, I thought it was time we became friends."

"Friends?" Sookie asked incredulously. "I don't really know…"

"Abby says you must be friends with your in-laws," Pam nodded. "And we're as close to that as we can be now that you're sleeping with my master."

"Oh um… well, I guess we can try to be friends," Sookie started. "Would you like to take a seat?"

Pam looked at the furniture in the living room with disgust, gingerly walking around the sofa and taking a seat, avoiding the hideous blanket that covered the back of the couch. That blanket would need to be burned, along with the rest of Sookie's belongings. I had already contracted someone to build her a new house, more to her taste, and one that a vampire of my position could be seen in.

"Eric informed me that you two have been having lots of sex. He says it's quite enjoyable."

"He did?" Sookie frowned. "That's a bit weird."

"Not at all. A maker and his child share everything."

"What did he tell you?"

"Not nearly enough," Pam scoffed. "You would think after nearly two decades that he would understand my insatiable need for descriptions of sex."

Sookie looked relieved, as I knew she would. There was something about Sookie that made me want to keep this private. She was not another fangbanger whose exploits I wanted to share with the world.

"That's why I came here to talk to you."

"What's why you came here to talk to me?" Sookie asked with a furrowed brow.

"I was hoping you would tell me details," Pam nodded with a smirk.

"Details?"

"Yes. Details. Lots of juicy details. It has been forever since I saw Eric's gracious plenty, or any penis for that matter. I would love nothing more than for an account of everything."

"You've seen Eric's…erm… gracious plenty?"

"Of course," Pam nodded. "Only in the beginning. It's been at least a century since I saw it up close."

"Oh."

"Tell me, is it still as veiny as it used to be?"

I smirked as Sookie's eyebrows raised to her hairline.

"Veiny?"

"Yes. And well, he was the only man I ever slept with, so I don't know if this is usually the case, but…did you find it quite painful? Or is my hole just smaller than normal?"

"I…uh…don't think we should talk about this."

"Why not? I have seen _Sex in the City. _Everyone knows that girls talk about this. And, let's face it, I've been alive forever. I get bored. I need new images to keep my juices flowing down there. Give me detail."

"Pam!" Sookie shook her head. "I am not going to tell you details. That's gross."

"It is not. It is hot. In fact, I think you should write it down for me. That way when I am alone with my permaboner replica, I can read it and imagine it happening to me."

"It's not hot," Sookie said. "It's disgusting. Why would you want to know that?"

"You're being ridiculous. God. You are so rude Sookie. And such a tease."

"Is this really what you came to talk to me about?" Sookie asked, crossing her arms over her delectable chest.

"Of course not! I just thought you would understand the importance of sharing the details. Apparently I'm wrong and you're evil."

"I am not evil," Sookie retorted. "And you'd better tell me what you're here for, or I'll rescind your ass straight out the door, no matter who your maker is."

I was on the edge of my seat. I had to admit, there was something hot about watching these two women fight over my sex life. I wondered if they'd be up for some Jell-o wrestling later, though of course the downside of that would be that Pam would kill Sookie, no questions asked. Perhaps that wasn't the best idea if I wanted to get into Sookie's lady cave any time soon.

"Fine," Pam huffed. "But thanks to you I have these blue walls."

"I'm sure you can figure something out with your…what is a permaboner replica anyway?"

"It's a mold of Eric's gracious plenty," Pam growled. "We sell them at Fangtasia."

"You sell dildos that are supposed to be Eric's…thingy?"

"Yes," Pam nodded. "They are quite popular, and not only with the ladies."

"I don't even want to know." I laughed as Sookie dismissed the conversation with a wave of her hand and a shudder. Pam wasn't used to having anyone but me order her around.

"Abby says one must always be gracious to one's hostess," Pam said after a moment. "Even if she is the world's biggest cockblock."

"You don't have a cock!" Sookie pointed out.

No, I was the only one around here who had a cock, and a massive cock at that.

"What is it Pam?" Sookie asked, sitting defensively in her chair.

"Fine. Eric wanted me to see why you still were keeping that ridiculous job with the mutt."

The change in Sookie's demeanor was visible. I could spot the moment she changed from passive annoyance to straight up anger. Only, I didn't realize it was directed at me until too late.

"That overbearing idiot!"

The shock that was plastered on my face matched that of Pam's.

"Are you daring to call my maker an idiot?"

"No," Sookie barked. "I am calling my…whatever he is…an idiot. A big, fat, stupid, dopey idiot! How dare he think he can manage my life for me! And to send you?" Sookie stood up and began pacing back and forth. "What in the heck was he thinking? Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea. See if he ever gets this again."

My attention – and painful attention that it was – focused on those last words of hers. She dared to threaten to cut off our sexytime love fests because I, Eric Northman, was trying to better her life? That I was willing to take her out of the redneck dive bar and bestow upon her the honor of being my partner; my bonded? I felt the rage begin to boil through the bond – though I couldn't tell you if it was hers or mine.

"What the hell?" she asked, her voice pulling my attention back to the monitor. "Why in the heck do I feel like I am feeling things that aren't my own?"

"That'd be the bond," Pam said drolly.

"The what?"

"The bond." She looked at Sookie as if she were stupid; well…I guess that's not even an "as if." "You know, you exchanged blood with Eric a number of times and now you're bound together for eternity?" Pam couldn't have sounded more bored.

"Are you kidding me?"

Pam shook her head. "Why would I joke about something like that? It is a privilege and an honor for you bloodbags to be bound to any vampire, much less the Viking Vampire Perpetual Sex God that is my maker. You have the opportunity to be a kept woman, and you spit in his face? You should be showing your gratitude of such an honor, not defying him; not making a mockery of his very existence."

"Excuse me?" Sookie looked outraged; I was glued to the television.

"That's right. You go around acting as if you have your own goals; your own life. Don't you know that none of that matters once Eric Northman enters your life?"

Sookie sat back down on the sofa, clearly in awe of what Pamela told her. Perhaps she was finally seeing the error of her ways. Pamela was right; Sookie should be showing me her gratitude. She could start by kneeling under my desk and giving me the world's best blow job (and don't worry, I'd be more than happy to share with you the details of every lick and slurp – _I _was not a cock tease. Or a vagina tease. I would recount every single groan, and possibly sell the tape to TMZ.)

I was just about to pick up the phone and make that suggestion when Sookie started to talk – no, yell.

"Why should I give up my life?" she started slowly. "Why should I change anything for that matter? He's the one that pursued me. He's the one that apparently liked me as I was."

"Of course he did," Pam said, quickly trying to reassure her. One of Pam's best qualities was her ability to defuse a situation, and she was even better at stopping the problem before it blew out of proportion. "It's just…well, everyone knows that you have to adjust to keep your partner interested. If Eric wants something, you have to remember that he is a 1,000 year old vampire; you don't want to bore him, do you?"

"I don't want to do anything with him right now!" Sookie growled.

"Now that's not true, and we both know it. No one could possibly turn down the greatness that is Eric Northman."

I heard Sookie grumble something that sounded suspiciously like "I could", but write that off as a bad connection on the sound system.

"You have to work hard to keep someone like Eric interested in someone like…you."

"I haven't done much to keep his attention on me, and I sure as hell haven't been able to shake him."

"Eric likes a challenge," Pam said, trying to soothe Sookie. "But now that he's won you, you must know that it's your duty to keep him."

"Is that so?" Sookie asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"Yes," Pam nods. "Many women have tried before, but none have been successful."

"That's encouraging."

"Oh don't be disheartened, Sookie. It is far from hopeless!" Pam smiled, over brightly. "I have never seen him as interested in a female as he is in you. But," she looked over her shoulder at the camera quickly, then looked back at Sookie. "Perhaps you should resort to some tricks to keep him."

"Tricks?" Sookie asked with a crazed laugh. "Pray tell, what kind of tricks should I do?"

"There is something with ping-pong balls that is quite-"

"No."

"Fine," Pam huffed. "I did see him interested in one of those pony shows down in Mexico."

"I am not doing ANYTHING with an animal, Pam."

"Alright…" Pam trailed off. "How about anal sex?"

"What is it with you vampires and anal sex? God," Sookie shook her head. So she was still being stubborn about that. We'd have to see what I could do to convince her otherwise. "No. No butt sex."

"You could always do some anal play with him," Pam pointed out, at which point my butt wiggled gleefully. I reached down and began to rub it; it wouldn't do to have my ass so excited over something that wasn't likely to happen with Sookie.

"I am not sticking my hand anywhere near his asshole."

"It doesn't have to be your hand. In fact, I believe he prefers your mouth anyway."

"Gross! Stop talking about anything related to that. I'm not doing any of it!"

"Fine." Pam slunk down in her seat, something I hadn't seen her do since the Roaring 20s. "Abby did say something about a situation similar to this once that might help."

"Abby? Is that one of the vampires at Fangtasia?"

"No," Pam rolled her eyes. "Abby. The columnist. The smartest person alive – vampires don't count of course, as they aren't technically alive. Of course we're smarter than Abby."

"Are you talking Dear Abby again?" Sookie asked with a sigh.

"That's the one," Pam replied, tapping her nose with her forefinger. "There was a woman who was afraid her man was cheating on her and asked for Abby's advice. And Abby, wise woman that she is, suggested that the woman get pregnant. By accident of course. Perhaps you can get pregnant."

"Me?" Sookie asked, her eyes bulging. "Get pregnant? With Eric?"

"Who else?"

A vision of Sookie's vampire Halfling babies flashed before my eyes, and I find myself smiling before I can stop myself. While it had been eons since a vampire baby was born, it wasn't entirely out of the question. There were ways to get it done; favors to be called in with magical entities. And if Sookie were heavy with my child, then I could finally live out my Ready to Drop fetish. This idea sounded better and better.

"How in the hell am I supposed to get pregnant with a vampire baby? And…more importantly…why in the hell would I want to have a baby with Eric? He's hot and all; he's got a great body and he certainly knows what he's doing in bed, but that's not enough reason to have a baby. Even if it were possible."

"First things first," Pam said. "I am sure that we could speak to that little witch friend of yours…what's her name again?"

"Amelia?"

"Yes," Pam's eyes glazed over and she licked her lips. "Amelia. Delectable creature, that. I am sure she wouldn't mind if I asked her to recount her sexual exploits in explicit detail."

"Are we going back to that?" Sookie huffed.

"No. No, we're not. But she's a witch right? Perhaps she could work some magic mumbo-jumbo and figure out a way. Like a hole in a condom."

"We don't use condoms," Sookie said. I couldn't help but smile.

"You don't?" Pam asked with a smirk. "How does it feel to have him filling you to the brim? Your body pulsating around him?"

"Are you kidding me?"

I was hoping she'd answer the question myself, but not my Sookie. Perhaps she'd tell me in private; perhaps she'd show me what she does when she thinks about me at night, not that I don't know already. I've seen the feed of her on the surveillance system.

"You are no fun. But yes, a baby. Then I could throw you one of those…what are they called? Where it rains babies?"

"A baby shower?" Pam nodded. "It's not literally a baby shower. It's where people bring the baby gifts."

"Oh," Pam frowned. "That's not nearly as fun as I imagined, but yes, I suppose I could do that too."

"I don't want a baby," Sookie said.

"Who cares what you want?" Pam asked. "If that's how you can hold onto Eric; to keep him from straying because you are too stubborn to keep him sexually satisfied and adventurous, then that's what you must do."

"I keep him plenty satisfied," Sookie said defiantly. It was true; at least so far.

"So say you. But how am I to know unless you document it?"

"It's none of your business. And totally weird that you care."

"I care about everything my maker cares about," Pam said. "And for some reason, he has decided that he cares about you."

Sookie sat back in her chair, resting her hands on her thighs for a moment. "He does?"

"Yes. For whatever reason he does, though you clearly do not deserve him."

"He cares for me?" Sookie asked again. I felt a twinge of something in my chest; it must've been heartburn. That last fangbanger tasted heavily of hot sauce. It had been disgusting.

"I swear, you are slow sometimes. You do speak English, correct?"

"I don't know what to say."

"Perhaps you should say thank you to the gods for bringing Eric into your life," Pam suggested. It was a good idea. Some called me a God; she could say thank you to me over and over.

When Sookie didn't say anything, Pam stood up, cocking her hip to the side and displaying the length of her leg and strappy heel to its advantage.

"Think about it," Pam said. "Eric would appreciate a good tribute from you. And if you were pregnant then…"

"Then what?" Sookie asked as Pam made a beeline for the door. "Where are you going?"

"To tell that mutt boss of yours that you're trying to get pregnant and will not be coming back." The door slammed shut behind Pam before Sookie could stop her, and I watched as the tension rose in Sookie's body; it was mirrored by waves of frustration coming through the bond. Even if I hadn't installed the cameras, I would know that there was something wrong with Sookie.

My phone rang not five seconds later, with Sookie screaming like an indecipherable banshee. The last time I'd heard her this loud was two nights ago when I fucked her on top of a cloud (one of the perks of flying.)

"Calm down lover," I instruct, sending calming waves through the bond.

"Calm down?" she asked. "Calm down? Your minion was just here. Do you have any idea what she suggested?"

"No." I was good at playing dumb.

"She suggested I try to get pregnant with your vampire baby to keep you around. How ridiculous is that?"

"It's…yeah…ridiculous." If by ridiculous, you meant a brilliant plan.

"And then she has the nerve to run off and tell Sam I'm quitting my job."

"I thought we agreed that you'd quit your job," I pointed out.

"I did no such thing."

"Sure you did. I asked you if you'd stop working there and you said yes, you'd do anything."

"Two seconds before you give me an orgasm doesn't count," she huffed. "It's manipulative."

"I am a vampire Sookie, and a sheriff. That's part of the territory."

"Yeah, well… I'm beginning to wonder if it's worth it."

It was. Of course it was. There is only one Eric Northman. She couldn't resist the permaboner.

**

* * *

AN:** This (as with all the other permaboner stories) is unbeta'd and meant in good humor. Thanks to PMR for sending me enough material to put yet another chapter together; pfloogs for listening to me whine and complain; and seasonblogs for the title and for taming the arousal a wee bit

To everyone else – thanks for reading the bone. I hope you got a few good laughs out of it. And…if you, like me… get a little put off by the ubiquitous, saintly Eric who can do no wrong and the devil he is in love with, might I point you in the direction of the Saint Eric writing contest? More information can be found on the SaintEric fanfiction profile page.


	4. Chapter 4: My Love is Like A Tidal Wave

**AN: **Another permaboner installment. This time in honor of worthfighting4's birthday. I know how she loves a good gusher.

As with all the permaboner chapters, this is unbeta'd and sure to be riddled with errors. I couldn't even bring myself to read through it again… you'll see why.

There's a link to another banner made by PMR on my profile. I think she lives to Photoshop Alexander Skarsgard into ridiculous outfits.

**Permaboner:** **My Love is Like A Tidal Wave**

"Lover," I whispered.

"_Oh Little One_," I repeated, raising my voice and smirking in just the way I knew she liked it.

No response.

"LOVER!"

Sookie Stackhouse, my lover, my bonded, my possession awoke with a start, and I imagine would have jumped straight in the air if I hadn't secured her to the wrought iron bed frame. I watched with an amused grin as she tugged frantically at the rope bindings that held her in place.

"What in the holy, Judea hell?" she asked the darkness. "Eric Northman!" The edge to her voice could have been construed as anger, but I knew better. This was all part of the game; all part of the plan. Despite her many protests that she wasn't into submission; despite her request that we spend the night apart (as if!), I had her just where I wanted her. Just where she wanted to be.

"Yes lover?" I asked, my voice a whisper in the summer breeze.

"Please tell me that you did not drive here from Shreveport, strip me of my clothes and tie me to the bed while I was sleeping."

"I did not." I'd flown. She should have realized by now that it was neigh impossible for me to drive my Corvette when my permaboner was at full attention. It got in the way – despite the rather restraining garb it was in at the moment – and even a vampire as old and wise as me could confuse a stick shift for a…shaft, as it were.

I looked down at her from my position, levitating over her bed. Her features were scrunched, though I doubted she could see me. That is the problem with having a human lover, even a half-fae human lover like Sookie. She would never be as skilled as I was at the simplest things, such as seeing in the darkness of midnight. If she wasn't so juicy and delicious, I would trade her in for a newer, better model. Or, if nothing else, I could turn her into a vampire so that we'd be on a more level playing field. But no, Sookie wanted to stay human. Fool.

I wouldn't allow myself to think about her ridiculous protests of enjoying the sun and breathing. I'd done quite well without either, thank you very much. And she was deluding herself if she imagined spending eternity with me would be less than amazing.

She really was making quite the ugliest face.

"Don't," I whispered, lowering myself until we were a full erection's length apart (so about two feet given the size of the erection in question). "Haven't I told you that you will get wrinkles if you make faces like that?"

"Maybe," she huffed, "I wouldn't need to make these kinds of faces if you didn't keep doing things like this." She pulled against her restraints once more. "Untie me, Eric."

"Mmm." I lowered my nose to her neck and inhaled deeply. "I don't think so, Lover."

"Eric Northman, you untie me now!" she commanded.

"Feisty," I chuckled, trailing my nose down her body, still floating above her naked form. She smelled of fresh earth, as if she had been gardening and had forgotten to shower before falling asleep. Really, she should take better care of herself if she wanted to retain me as her lover. As if the ratty old Bon Temps high school t-shirt she'd been wearing when I'd sneaked into her window hadn't been enough of a turn off, she couldn't even be bothered to clean herself? I made a mental note to send Pam over to give her lessons on proper cleaning techniques.

I scrunched my nose at the odors that mixed on her body (after all,_ I_ didn't have to worry about wrinkles as the most amazing creature to have graced the earth – and a Viking to boot) and sped my journey down the length of her torso, burying my face in her bat cave and taking a deep breath. Ah yes, this is what I had come for. She may smell like dirt and that god awful human food she ate, but she could not disguise the loveliness that lived between her legs.

"You get out of there," she commanded, squirming to pull away. Only, due to my masterful bindings, her ministrations only served to bury my face deeper into her valley.

"Oh little one," I chuckled, lifting my head out of its happy place to look up into her eyes. "You cannot deny your pleasure. I can smell it."

"That's disgusting Eric," she said, more and more breathless with every word.

"Is it?" I quirked my eyebrow, then began waggling the other in a controlled fashion as I knew she enjoyed. All the ladies enjoyed a good eyebrow waggle.

"I thought I told you I wanted to sleep tonight, Eric," she said impatiently, twisting her hands in their bindings. I had been worried that she might break free, what with the way her hands were so tiny and soft; like a baby's. It was a good thing that new bartender at Fangtasia had been around to help me with those pirate knots before I'd sent him away. Not, of course, that I wasn't the best knot tier on the planet – I was; am – but what is the point of employing a pirate if not to help you in your hour of need? Besides, my hands were far too large and valuable to be bothered with something as pedestrian as rope.

"I thought we discussed your denying me, Lover," I countered. "Do you have any idea how many women – of all species mind you – would kill to be in your spot?"

"And I thought we discussed that I wasn't like your other women."

Hmmm. This wasn't working. I decided to switch tactics, lowering myself until I rested on my knees, and crawled up the length of her body manually, careful to keep my pelvis raised above her body. She could say whatever she wanted, but her body responded to mine; always had, even when she was dating that wank-happy Bill Compton.

"Lover," I murmured when I reached her ear. She turned her face away from me. If I had to breathe, I would have taken a deep breath and counted to ten. Instead, I cursed silently in a long forgotten language.

I leaned in to nip at the lobe. "Little Sookie," I tried. "Have I told you how much I love your tight little body? The way you feel like a small child next to me?"

No response.

"Baby?"

She let out a resigned sigh and turned back to meet my eyes.

"Eric?"

"Yes, precious little one?"

"Can you please stop calling me those names?"

"What names?" I mumbled, moving my hands to her heaving breasts.

"The little girl names. It's…it's creepy."

"Is that why your nipples are hardening? Because it's creepy?" I chuckled. She was too simple sometimes.

"No." She shook her head, the one mobile part of her body. "I think that is all your ice cold fingers' doing. Going on and on about how small I am just makes you sound like Chester."

"Who is Chester?" I asked, my fangs dropping at the mention of another man while we were being intimate.

"It's a saying. Chester the Molester?"

"I don't understand."

She let out a sigh. "Never mind. Just please stop with the little kid nicknames."

"You don't like when I treat you like my little girl?"

"No." She shook her head. "I told you I didn't."

"You also told me you didn't think you'd like to be tied down, and," I trailed my hand lower, reaching between her legs to find her juices flowing freely like a Juice Tiger, "that clearly isn't the case. So, little one… why deny it?"

"Don't…" she panted, attempting to squeeze her legs shut. "It's a bit insensitive to treat me like a little girl, and to so obviously get off on it given Uncle Bartlett and…"

I growled, unable to stop my base, animalistic nature from overcoming me at the mention of that scum. "I am nothing like Uncle Bartlett!" I yelled.

"I didn't say you were," Sookie sighed. "It's just that he used to go on and on about my little hands, and called me tiny and…"

"And killing him was the only good thing Bill Compton ever did."

Her eyes shot to her window at the mention of Bill's name. He had taken up residence in her woods on a nightly basis; if only it were true that you'd go blind from yanking it, he'd need a Seeing Eye vampire dog. Alas, that wasn't true, and we'd had to get used to Bill's watchful gaze.

She frowned. "You know I don't condone killing anyone. Even him."

"Which is ridiculous. And shows how very young you are."

"Can you please stop touching my yahoo palace when we're arguing?" she ground out between clenched teeth.

"But lover, I can't help myself. Not when you're so well lubricated." I quickly licked her flowing nectar from my fingers before filling her again.

"Can you please just stop?" she asked, though her voice wasn't very convincing.

"Give me one good reason to stop, Lover." I crawled up her body, stopping when my legs were on either side of hers.

"Because I don't want you touching me. Isn't that enough?"

"Ah, but your palace is saying something else entirely. The guards have gone and the gates are open for the entrance of the cavalry." I punctuated every word with a flick of my finger, groaning and moaning at the feel of her wetness. There was one thing I could say about my lover, and that was that she moistened up like no other. I barely had to touch her – barely breathe on her – and the slick, sweet nectar pouring from her legs would have done Niagara Falls proud. Sometimes – and I'm only admitting this to you – I imagine my boner wrapped in one of those barrels, bobbing along and plummeting deep into her pool.

"Just because my body reacts doesn't mean I want it, Eric," she ground out. She sounded rather breathless, a sure sign that she wanted me. If only she would realize that this was for both of us – hell, it wasn't as if I was deriving any pleasure from this; she was the one all sticky.

"Your body wouldn't react if you didn't want me," I reasoned.

"That is such a bunch of baloney. It's nature. You touch me there, my body reacts. It doesn't mean I want you to."

"Of course you do. If I fill up your orgasm jar, I know you're enjoying yourself."

"Please Eric. Just let me go. I don't want to have sex with you right now."

"You said that last night, Lover, and yet you writhed beneath me and screamed my name loud enough that Alcide and his pack came searching."

I saw her blush in the darkness. The were invasion last night had been less than fortuitous, but at least it had finally convinced that hulking lunk of a shifter that Sookie wasn't interested in his hairy, overly warm muscles. It had taken long enough, not that weres in general were smart enough to catch on to the simplest things. Besides Sookie's glorious bosom, I hadn't seen a sight as pleasant as Alcide's retreating figure, his tail tucked between his legs. At least, I think that was his tail. It was far too big to be anything else.

"Stop, Eric," she said sternly, which only caused the Northdong to rise more painfully to attention. I liked when she got bossy; perhaps she'd consider trading places with me, not that ropes would be very effective binding to a Viking Vampire, but I was good at playing along.

"You say no, but I know you mean yes."

"You do see the holes in that logic, right?"

When I didn't respond, she closed her eyes and rested her head back against her pillow. "Eric, this is really uncomfortable and I don't like it. Can you please untie me?"

I sighed, sitting back on my heels and shrugging my shoulders. "Fine. But you're officially no fun."

With lightening fast vampire speed, I unbound the ropes at her wrists and ankles before settling next to her on her small bed.

The room flooded with light when she switched on the lamp, revealing the worn and peeling wallpaper that covered her bedroom walls.

"It's so much better in the dark," I said, scowling at the aged furniture. "You really should let me buy you new things…new everything."

I had offered to buy her a new bed – something more fitting for a Sherriff to fuck in, but she had denied me. That seemed to be a pattern here. She'd also rejected the trousseau I'd sent over, saying that the crotchless panties were "unusable". What a silly woman; she should know that there was no point in having crotchful panties when I was around.

When I turned to look at her, her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"What?"

"What in the hell are you wearing?" she asked, stifling a giggle with the back of her hand.

I looked down at my attire and frowned. What was wrong with it? Pam had assured me that it was the best bondage gear that money could buy. If I was going to get into this lifestyle with Sookie (and I knew she wanted to do it, no matter what she said or did) only the best would suffice.

"Do you not like it?"

"It's…" she raised her eyes to the ceiling before looking at me again. "It's nice, Eric." She nodded, as if to affirm her words. "I guess." She reached out and touched the spikes that covered my codpiece. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"It does not hurt the wearer," I replied, matter-of-factly. "It only brings pleasureful pain to you."

"Um, yeah, I'm not into pain."

I frowned. "Yet you enjoy it when I bite you? Is that not painful?"

"Not at first. That's only…" she blushed. "Well… that's different. That's…"

I smiled knowingly, smelling the aroma of her arousal as it returned from its hidey-hole.

"Do you want me to bite you now, Lover?"

She flushed. I could see the blood pulsing through her veins as clear as day. Ah yes, my lover couldn't deny me for long.

"I don't think anyone would ever say they _want _to be bitten, Eric," she said, trying to sound stern as I leaned across her naked body and the tips of my extended fangs along her neck.

"Is that so?"

"Does it always have to be about sex and blood between us?" She sat up straight, resting her head on my shoulder, her bountiful breasts within inches of my fingertips. "Can't we just talk for awhile?"

"What?"

"Talk?" she repeated. "Like other couples do. Tell each other about our days?"

"Why would we do that?" I asked, genuinely confused. Besides Pam, I couldn't remember the last female I had actually had a conversation with. They were pretty to look at, and certainly some were more intriguing than others, but they were not designed for me to talk to. They were designed for me to fill to the brim with my vampire batter; to feed from. Nothing more, and nothing less. Even someone as special and unique as Sookie Stackhouse.

"That's what people do Eric," she sighed, standing up from her position on the bed and walking the short distance to her closet. I watched in resignation as she pulled out a robe and dared to cover herself from me. I would need to get Pam to talk about this later. Now, I was smart enough (and Viking enough!) to know, was not the time to raise this point.

"But, I sent Pam over earlier to talk to you. I thought that was why women had friends, so that they could talk."

Sookie sat down on the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around her midsection. "That's different. I can't say things to my friends that I can say to you. Or, I don't know, even if there's nothing like that…I miss talking. All we do is have sex."

"I fail to see the problem with that," I smirked, reaching out and jamming my hand between the terry cloth robe and her chest.

"Of course you don't," she replied, rolling her eyes and dislodging my hand from its resting place on her nipple. "Can't we talk about our days? What happened at work? Don't you ever have things you can't tell anyone?"

I frowned. Modern women could be so confusing. Back in my day, women barely opened their mouths, except to grunt and groan and scream in satisfaction as I filled them with my enormous cock.

"No. I can tell Pam anything."

She sighed and tugged her gaping robe closed. "Most people share that kind of stuff with their lover."

I frowned deeper. "You would like for me to talk with you about the things I tell Pam?"

She nodded.

"All right," I said, looking at her skeptically. "Our last conversation was about the quality of fangbangers she has been bringing to me. As she knows, I prefer blonde women with large breasts and -"

"Eric!" Sookie shrieked.

"What?"

"You're still having sex with fangbangers?"

I rolled my eyes and leaned back. "I'm a Sheriff, Sookie. A _vampire_ Sheriff. Not to mention a Viking at that."

"But… I didn't know you were still sleeping with other ladies. I thought you said I was enough for you."

"You are enough for me." Most of the time. When she wasn't complaining about being tired, or not wanting the permaboner in her anal passage. "But I have duties I must fulfill."

"So you're still having sex with other women?"

I nodded. "And men."

She shook her head.

"It's in the Sheriff's handbook Sookie. We must pleasure between 75-200 human bloodbags per week. If not, we will be stripped of our duties. You wouldn't want to see that happen to me, would you?"

"No. Of course not, but – "

"And think of all the sacrifices I have made for you, lover. Pam is always getting after me to spend more time at Fangtasia. If I were there every night, I could even out the sex. Before you, I kept it nice and steady – 28 dickings a night. Now, there are nights when I have to do double or triple that to make up for the time I spend with you."

Her eyes widened as she calculated the math in her head. "How in the world do you make love to so many people in one night?"

"I fuck them Sookie. You're the only one I make love to." I smiled to myself – I knew from reading Cosmo that women liked that distinction, and Sookie should be no different.

"Oh gee, I guess that makes me special." I might have detected a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but chose to ignore it.

"You are special, lover." I snaked my way down the bed, cursing as her duvet caught on the spikes protruding around my happy place. "Everyone else only gets on spin on the boner. You, my beautiful, lover get as many rides as you can take."

"That just seems so… icky."

"What's icky?" I asked, taking her earlobe between my teeth as I knew she liked.

"The thought of sharing you with so many people."

"It's just sex, Sookie."

"So it's okay for me to go and have sex with someone else?"

I growled, flipping her onto her back in seconds and nestling myself between her legs. "You are mine, Sookie Stackhouse. No other man or woman shall touch you."

"Bit of a double standard there, don't you think?"

"I am the Sheriff, dammit!" I spat out, fixing her eyes with my own. I forced myself to soften my features when I saw the fear in her eyes…not that I'm opposed to fear, I just knew that fear in Sookie meant she wouldn't have sex with me. "I mean…lover. It's different. You fucking other men is disrespectful."

"And you… well, you-know-whating other women isn't?"

"Exactly," I nodded. "I knew you'd understand."

"I'm not so sure I do."

"Lover," I cooed, leaning down to nibble on her ear. "Do we really need to fight about this?"

She squirmed beneath me, her pulse speeding up at my touch. "Can you please stop that for one minute until we get this resolved?"

"What's there to resolve?" I moved down to suckle on the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and smirked when her breath sped up. "You are my lover. You are the woman I claim as my own. There is no higher honor in the land."

"I don't like the thought of you…other women and then coming here to do the same to me. Is that that difficult to understand?"

I sighed, lifting my head up to look at my lover. "It is because you love me."

"I didn't say that," she said defiantly.

"You don't need to. Little one-"

"Eric!"

"Fine. Sookie. Do you not understand that when I am buried in them, I am thinking of you? Do you not know that it is your face I imagine bringing bundles of pleasure to? Your body that I want to be inside of? I do not have orgasms with them; I save them all for you. You are the only vessel I want carrying my molten treasure."

"Really?" she asked uncertainly.

"Really. I would be exclusive to you if only the vampire law would allow it. Alas, I can be exclusive to you in this respect."

That seemed to pacify her, or at least quiet her long enough for me to begin the seduction I had planned before we got into this whole mess. Women.

With one flick of my wrist, the knot of her robe was untied, her glorious chest and golden triangle exposed to my roaming eyes.

"You are the one I want," I murmured, running my lips across her clavicle. "Ohh… ohhh….ohh…honey."

"Did you just quote _Grease_?" she panted.

Damn. "No."

"Oh," she nodded, her hands running through my golden mane. "Okay."

She moaned and panted as my hands explored every nook and cranny (save the one cranny that she refused me entry – but that was temporary at best), crying out when I pressed myself between her thighs.

"Mother fucker!"

"What?" I looked into her cerulean orbs, cocking my eyebrow in confusion.

"That fucking hurt," she shrieked, writhing out from beneath me.

I looked down to the area she was fanning, noticing the dimples in her flesh from the tips of my codpiece.

"Oh."

"Oh?" She shrieked. "That's all you have to say?"

I watched, mesmerized, as a drop of blood trickled down her leg, my fangs and banana shaped organ extending further.

"Let me… take care of that for you." I was down in a flash, licking, rubbing, and tasting the blood that covered her thighs. The scent of her intoxicating fairy blood so close to her hot, flowing core was enough to make me dizzy, but I powered through it. I licked, grunting at the sound of the moans that escaped her lips.

"You like that lover?"

She mumbled her assent.

"Tell me."

She writhed beneath me.

"Over," she grunted. "Move over."

Who was I to not oblige? I shifted my head the fractional distance and took her into my mouth. "That's right lover," I said, buried up to my nose in her dripping delta. "Fill me with your nectar."

I made her orgasm once using my magical tongue, then again and again until I counted thirteen violent shudders. She needed to be good and worn out for what I had in mind.

I removed the spiked codpiece before crawling up her body and taking her lips with my own. She barely had the energy to open her eyes, her entire concentration focused on the dazed smile that crossed her face.

"Are you ready for the pounding of your life, lover?"

She whispered something indecipherable even to vampire ears and shook her head. Her eyes drooped further closed with every passing moment. She was exactly where I wanted her – corpselike and compliant.

She didn't resist as I spread her legs apart and shoved myself inside of her, filling her still quivering love canal to capacity. She let out a sound, and it was not one of displeasure, and her eyes opened wide.

"My goodness!"

"I thought it was gracious," I grunted, pounding away at full vampiric speed.

"Goodness, gracious!"

"That's right lover," I roared, then thrust my hips in rapid succession as I chanted. "Mine! Mine! Mine!"

She felt so good, so right around me that I knew I was close to popping the lid on the Tupperware of my nut butter. I shoved myself deeper still (and yet could only fit half of the glorious pants Viking inside) and braced myself for the impact.

One, two, three thrusts more and I threw my head back and began to roar. I roared until I could roar no more, collapsing into the puddle of our love with a grunt.

"Do you doubt me now, lover?" I whispered into her ear. "Now, when we are joined, soaked in the crust of our joining?"

She shook her head.

"Only you, little one. Only you."

"Eric!"


End file.
